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Why does my character, Ceitach of the wood elves seek to claim the throne for himself? He lusts for power, pride and honor. Ceitach is by far the most skilled ranger of his kind, or so he believes. Ever since he was a child his father told him tales of the great kings of Cyodil and how they where the most powerful men throughout the land. His father always told him "Someday, my son, you will claim the throne for our family, for you carry pride, honor and courage" These words had an impact on Ceitach's life ever since he was a young elf.

A few years ago Ceitach gathered a group of highly skilled warriors. The small group of adventurers took on many quests offered to them, proving there loyalty and power. After a while, the Aldmeri Dominion's high council caught site of Ceitachs achievements. Once Ceitach was informed that the eye of the council was upon him, he took it upon himself to conjure up an army, calling races from far and wide to his disposal, in hopes of taking the throne of Cyrodil, and bringing the Adlmeri Dominion back to there original power and glory. The last hurdle in Ceitachs journey to obtaining the throne, was to be granted a disc that would allow him to play the game, learning new skills, meeting new people and growing his army to unimaginable numbers. Ceitach will pray day and night to the Nine Gods he grew up around, in hopes that they will hear his faint voice, and grant him the wish he so desires.

The Soultaker

Who am I, you may ask?

I have many names, many callings all different and all terrifying, but whispered with the smallest amount of breath so that they don't draw my attention. I have been called Assassin, Shade, Hunter, The Soultaker. You don't see me comming. You see the blade protruding from your gut and only then do you learn of my existence as your body falls limp and the light fades away from your eyes. For you I am a demon, the Grim Reaper himself, who came to take your life away. For me ... it's just another job. After all I am a bountyhunter and I always finish my contract. I have a reputation to uphold. Or at least ... I had.

I looked down on the hands that have taken so many lifes away and then at the empty lifeless walls of my cell. The last thing I remembered was getting my head chopped off by a brute with an axe. How did this happen ... I never make mistakes. I guess the wheels of fate have turned and the Soultaker is now only a soul to be eternally tortured by Molag Bal. I have after all done some horrifying things since I left Morrowind. I could not expect to escape karmic consequences forever. Nocturnal has finally forsaken me. She has lifted her vail and left all the darkness, I was so carelessly threading through all my life, crumble down underneath my feet.

It is a strange thing, being dead. It changes your perspective of things. When I sit here in the damp cell of Coldharbour, I think of how the whispers of my name will fade from the minds of the living and I will be forgotten. No trace will be left of me. Well, maybe a story told to naughty kids to scare them into bed. It is not the way I wanted to be remembered. Maybe, if I could turn back and walk Nirn again, I'd choose a different path, use my abillities for others instead of for myself. Maybe ... But fate rarely gives second chances and never to people like me.

That is when the air infront of me shimmered to life. Blue mist spread out and started forming up until a spectral image of an old man stood infront of me. I jumped to my feet.

Forgotten past...

My story? ....Are you sure you want to bear the curse that walks with it....?

My name is Jack....Jack Tsubame. I was a normal soldier serving the great Ebonheart Pact. Originally I was from an Imperial lineage, my father was a great warrior who served his country until the end of his days and so I honoring the family tradition walked upon the same path. I have two great sons and a loving wife, everything a soldier would want to have ,we lived near a village…oh it was such a splendid place…

Until one day…the forces of Molag Bal came and burned everything I fought with everything I had , swords shattered in the heads of my enemies , shields were burned and broken I had no remorse for demons! With a short glimpse I saw a shadow , a dark being with cold chilling eyes , it was like winter was brewing inside of body. A chill ran down my spine and I froze for a moment. As the shadow forced his way pass me I could pray that my family was alive and well I felt a pain ….and passed out.
As I regained my senses it was all over, the whole village was gone my memories with it. I had no idea what has happened in the time I was laying on the ground …until I saw it… the thing that scarred my soul forever the only thing that would drive me to insanity on my road to revenge. My family was butchered , their clothes waving as the terrible winds blew past them, at that moment a flashback occurred- …I remembered…. The shadow ..it…it… controlled me , it made me one of Molag Bals minions , I couldn’t regain control of my own body as I witnessed how that creature, that abomination of hatred and darkness ordered me to slay my own family. It found it amusing and as I drew my greatsword it laughed.
……….The flashback ceased … I knew what had happened , my own family …..by my own hands.

Now I walk this earth wanting revenge on the monstrosity that is Molag Bal. I shall have my revenge ….and in it I shall have my peace , because no one will stop me , I SHALL NOT DIE! I am a but a faint resemblance of my past self , my past forgotten , my honor torn apart .. my family torn apart.

Well adventurer, will you help me on the path to madness and carnage? Or will you think of me as a madman?

Dro'Khanji, a dark furred Khajiit referred to by most as Khan, though born into a litter of 8 other brothers and sisters, was easily distinguishable due to his distinctive white markings. They contrasted heavily with his shadowy coat, becoming the focal point of his face and ultimately defining him physically. When referred to in his small hometown in Elsweyr by strangers as "the one with white markings", everyone knew Khan was the one in question. He was born Cathay-Raht, unlike his six other brothers and two sisters, who were Suthay-Raht. While his parents trained their children from a young age to be traders and merchants, Khan, being naturally more physically adept and larger than his siblings was given a different type of training along with his merchantry training.
His father trained him expertly in the arts of combat, having years of experience from his work as a town guard. He taught Khan how to strike precisely with a sword and block expertly with a shield. While Khan proved to be talented in this category, he also showed his inborn skill for stealth by robbing food stands with his siblings and by slipping out of educational teachings at a young age. While she did not approve of his childish uses, his mother knew the benefits a stealthy khajiit possessed in combat. She taught him how to remain unseen in his activities, and gave him basic training with arcane arts that aided him in his stealthy pursuits. While Khan was the most skilled combatant in his family by the time he was a young adult, he was very modest and was happy to show his brothers and sisters some techniques he had learned. Throughout his years he never ventured far away from his hometown and remained very close with his family. He was content in his plan to act as a guard for his sibling's travelling caravan when they were ready to set out into the threatening world of Tamriel. He did not hope for an extravagant life, but one filled with purpose. Being the guard of his family's caravan served as just that.
As the years passed and Khan developed into his own man, the day came that he and his siblings would finally leave his parents and hometown behind to embrace their caravan life filled with riches and exploration. As his family gathered near the town's gates, he was a ways away standing on the edge of a riverbed watching the sun set downstream. As he flicked rocks into the water gloriously reflecting the sun's orange glow he had a moment to reflect on the person he had become. He was Dro'Khan, an honourable, modest but confident khajiit who held the importance of his companions above all else. The luxury of of gold also held great importance to him, and while he was no stranger to scheming, he would not cheat an honest man out of an honest trade. He preferred to save his scamming for those who rubbed him the wrong way. His time guarding the caravan near the town showed him that he did not love fighting, but he had no problem spilling the blood of those who would spill his. He would never raise a blade to the innocent, however, and enjoyed stealth combat stealth combat much more than straight up fights. Getting pulled out of his thoughts by his brother, urging him to come to the gate and leave with them, he agreed, deciding to leave some aspects of his personality a mystery, as he would surely discover much about himself in his experiences to come. He parted from his father with a mutually respecting handshake and his mother with a loving hug when the caravan left that day. Promising to return one day, Khan and his siblings set foot out into the real world.
Kahn was pleased guarding the caravan. It was a life filled with excitement and happiness, always protecting those he cared for. Occasionally when he would rest, he would dream of adventuring on his own, exploring dungeons and crypts. Upon awakening however he would dismiss these dreams and return to his content life of guarding. The allure of adventuring was always deep in the back of his mind, however. Occasionally, when the caravan was in a safe place on its own such as in a town for a night, Khan would wander off an explore nearby caves to satisfy his thirst for adventure. Meeting many questionable people during his adventures, he sometimes had to do things he was not proud of to obtain treasures he would find during his time exploring. While he still remained a very honourable person, he was no stranger to shame in pursuit of objects of desire.
The event that changed Khan's life forever. It was a regular night of guarding. The caravan was on the outskirts of Cyrodiil. They had heard tales of the war brewing for the ruby throne, but they payed little mind to it. If anything the viewed it as a good thing, as the war would provide more service for them from people looking to buy weapons, armour and other wartime goods. Khan knew of his country's allegiance to the Aldmeri Dominion, and he knew the Dominion's motives for wanting the throne. He also agreed with their motives, but kept those thoughts to himself as he had no intent of involving himself in the war. The caravan was approached by two Nords and a Dark Elf. The Nords were armed to the teeth with steel, both had giant Battle axes on their backs. The Dark Elf had a dagger on her side, but small bolts of electricity sparking from her hands suggested she was a destruction mage. They asked for all the weapons the caravan had, and offered an unreasonable amount of gold in return. When told that they needed to pay more for the weapons, they attacked. Before Khan could intervene an arrow emerging from the tree line stuck him in the neck. It was dipped in a paralyzing poison and he was unable to move. The Argonian archer that shot him emerged from the tree line and helped the Nords and Dark Elf as they laid waste to his family. They packed all of the caravan's merchandise and gold into a sack and walked away. Except for the Argonian, who made his way over to Khan and took out a dagger, preparing to kill him as well. The smug look on the lizard's face was enough that Khan's rage and adrenaline overcame the poison's effects. He moved in the way of the dagger just in time and it stuck into his arm. He then swatted the Argonian with the back of his muscular hand, knocking him to the ground. He stuck his sword down through his stomach and into the ground. Ripping the dagger out of his arm, he caught up to the rest of the Ebonheart Pact patrol and laid waste to them as well, it was not an easy feat but Khan was fuelled by anger and grief.
Khan mourned the loss of his brothers and sisters for weeks. He was making his way back to his hometown in Elsweyr when he was given a note by a courier. The note contained information that brought him to his knees in agony.
"Dear Dro'Khanji,
It is with great sorrow that we inform you of your loss. Your hometown, Corinth, was recently destroyed in an attack by the Daggerfall Covenant. Most of the town's citizens were killed, but your parents were not counted among the dead or survivors. We assume that they escaped with their lives, but of course we cannot be certain about this fact.
We understand your need for grieving, however the Aldmeri Dominion is always accepting new soldiers. We would be honoured if you chose to avenge your family by fighting for the Dominion.
~Queen Ayrenn"
Khan dropped the note and rubbed it into the dirt with hos foot. As tears filled his eyes he looked over the horizon. He could see the land of Elsweyr in the distance, and he contemplated not returning at all. Standing in silence for a few moments, he was interrupted by the sound of a horse galloping in the distance. It was coming closer and closer, until he finally turned to see the horse, ridden by a Wood Elf bolting in his direction. Behind the Wood elf and the horse, he could pick out the shapes of dozens of horses gaining behind. Nords, Argonians, Dark Elves. It was another Ebonheart Pact patrol chasing the Wood Elf. In a split second decision, Khan jumped onto the back of the horse as it passed him, joining the Wood Elf as they frantically tried to escape the patrol. Although they had no reason to attack him, he now knew the Pact attacked first and asked questions later. The Wood Elf, confused, looked back at Khan. She decided there was no time to argue and they both continued bolting away from the pursuing patrol. Eventually their horse was struck in the leg with an arrow and it collapsed, rolling down a hill taking Khan and the Wood Elf with him. The weight of the horse bashing against his skull on the ground knocked Khan unconscious.
His eyes opened slowly, revealing shackles around his hands and the prison cell he was alone in. A new chapter in his life was about to begin.